The Vloodmir Vampires

AVAILABLE FOR KINDLE PURCHASE ON AMAZON // When a lust for equality and desire to break free from a tight autocratic structure forces itself into the hearts of the fed-up, hero's will rise. But when one large plan is altered by those on the side lines, who will fall and who will take the power from the Vloodmirs? But most of all, who will survive and who will die? Will secrets be leaked and will lovers become haters of one another?
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4. Chapter One


CHAPTER ONE

 

ASHES from ASHES

 

“How can you hate who I am so much?” Evelyn yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. Her torn expression on her face matched the agony plastered on her face.

“Don’t you get it? I don’t care.” That was the single response, each word expressed with hatred, the syllables clear and precise. They gave their intended message of hatred and disgust. Genevieve was sitting down at their table, the fancy bouquet of roses now moved to the side. Joseph wasn’t back from work, a delight to Genevieve, she could taunt and provoke her daughter to the extremes. But of course there were limits, everything and everyone had a limit. If Genevieve pushed too hard then Evelyn would snap, burning something or setting something on fire. Of course, she had considered sending her off to the Vloodmir Boarding Academy for Troubled Kids, but Joseph wouldn’t allow it. She was taught how to pass for a mortal at school - if she went. But at home she was taught to harness her element - electricity. Genevieve would push her own daughter to the limits. Evelyn could easily keep it under control when she was calm. But if her emotions went too high then so did her element. The power went through the roof.

“You don’t care?” Each word was said separately, the desolation coming through. Genevieve had broken her again.

“You heard me, Evelyn. I don’t care.”

“You can’t change who I am! I’ve been this way for over two hundred years!” Evelyn snarled, clenching her fists.

 

Evelyn had said the wrong thing. Despite her sharpened eyesight, Evelyn couldn’t see her mother run towards her and slam Evelyn into the wall, creating a dent. Yelling in pain, Evelyn slid down the wall, grasping a hand to her head. “Don’t you dare talk back to me!” Genevieve would snarl, walking back at a mortal speed to her place at the table. Sitting back down she would smile, picking at the grapes and slowly eating them, not giving a second glance back to her daughter whimpering on the floor. Evelyn couldn’t wait for her father to be back. The sooner the better. She found comfort when Joseph was in the house, she liked the presence of something she would trust. She felt as if there was someone who she could run to when he was there. While he was at work, Evelyn was sternly told, by mother and father, that she wasn’t allowed to go near his place of work. While walking back from the comprehensive school (the only comprehensive school in Vloodmir) she had to take the back alleys which were always shrouded in the darkness. It wasn't the safest but it obeyed her parent's orders which was all that ever seemed to matter, at least to her mother. Genevieve had a yearning for power. It was repulsive, she was always comparing herself to the person with the most amount of power.

 

Gripping the wall as she got up she looked to the clock. Fifth of September, 2018.She was considered a mere child in Vampiric years. Others were of a similar age in Vloodmir, but there was so little advancement in technology and the social structure in the world. 2015, same sex marriage was allowed for everyone in the U.S., people were still vulnerable and war was killing people by the millions. ISIS were strong and corruption was strong.

 

Stumbling out the room she gripped the doorframe and carried on, tripping over her mother’s expensive heels. Turning back in fear as she righted herself Evelyn carried on. It appeared that her mother hadn’t seen anything, thankfully. She probably had, but if she didn't say anything about it she was bored of playing with Evelyn. Gripping the silver banister a couple of steps away Evelyn dashed up the stairs, slamming into the wall and harshly turning, throwing herself into her room, her bare feet slamming onto the varnished floor with each step. Slamming the door shut she locked it and shoved a chair under the handle. It didn’t do much, but it’s what people did in the move's and on TV. But it was harder to do in reality than in a movie. Once done she slowly ambled over to the window sill, resting a hand against the ice cold window. Resting her forehead against the glass she sighed, gripping the curtain tightly, creasing the expensive fabric. It was a true miracle that the Parker’s had got back into Vloodmir and survived. But the war was two hundred and thirteen years ago! They were fine. Of course, there was the yearly parade to remind the Parkers and anyone else who was on the Trusoni side of their defeat, but that was one day a year. All of the Trusoni's and their allies (all under the Trusoni tag were let back in. It showed some form of respect, but it was really to gloat.) were allowed back in to stay and make a living. But taxes had to be paid and that went to the Fundatorum's - the Vampires who founded Vloodmir to begin with, those who put themselves on the front line in the war.

 

Pulling away from the window she looked down at the road, the streetlights illuminating the road badly. They were so old and needed to be repaired, but the Council wouldn’t do anything. It was the shoddy, shabby part of Vloodmir where sluts prowled the streets looking for a guy to blow and drunkards lay passed out. Of course, Evelyn looked around at the place she had always known, the place which was her home. Of course, it never had been her home due to the war, but she was fine where she lived now. She had friends – of sorts – and built a good reputation for herself. She knew she had a position of power in school, and that was all she needed. But that power was so small, it was probably the size of a peanut.

 

“Sweetheart?” Joseph’s voice echoed around the building. He was home, finally. Evelyn’s eyes widened with joy. Of course, she would have to wait for Joseph to come up to her to say hello and embrace her in a tight hug.

“She doesn’t understand how hard it is.” Was the reply from Evelyn’s mother, her tongue as sharp as her fangs. But what did that mean? It was random, but Genevieve wasted no time with 'hello, honey' or anything 'soppy' or overly romantic. Genevieve could and would obliterate anything in her path if it stood in her way to being powerful. Heading out of her room and over to the banister, Evelyn gripped the rail, hanging her head, her beautiful golden locks falling in front of her face. Why was Evelyn still caring? It wasn’t like she had much to live for. The war was over, there wasn’t much longer to go until she could move out. She could leave Vloodmir, go to a new town, London maybe, move to America, build a new life. But did she really want to be a Vampire that lived in the sunny part of the world? No. Besides, Vloodmir was her home, even if she didn’t want it to be. On top of that, where would she go? Vloodmir was a busy town in a remote area of England, the nearest town was a good 10000 yards away, if that.

 

Lifting her head up as she heard footsteps, Evelyn pulled herself back into the shadows, folding her arms around herself. She kept walking back until she was in the safety of her own room. Smiling gently to the floor as the footsteps of her father came closer she slowly lowered her arms, hooking her thumbs in the belt hooks of her jeans. It wasn’t right for Evelyn to be scared of her mother, but it wasn’t like she had an option. Slowly walking out of the darkness she approached her father who discarded his jacket, throwing it onto the spare bed and undoing his tie, undoing the top button of his shirt. Pushing his hair back he turning, his sensitive hearing picking up his daughter’s breathing. “Did your mother do something to you, Evie?”

Evelyn could only nod, as if he could see in the darkness - Vampires may have enhanced senses, but they couldn't see in the dark. Her father was the only person to call her Evie. Her mother called her Evelyn, and her friends, well, she didn’t have that friends, but they all used her fulol name. The name Evie made her feel safe and secure. Genevieve called her Evelyn, the formal name. Evelyn despised it, she hated it with a passion.

 

“What was it this time?” He sighed, wrapped his arms around her slender body and resting his chin on her forehead.

“Did you see the dent in the dining room?” she replied, those nine words telling the full story for her.

Joseph sighed, rubbing his eyes. There wasn’t much he could do to erase his daughter’s situation with his wife. He wouldn’t dare speak back to his own wife, there was too much tension between them, and all Genevieve would have to do would be to snap her fingers and boom, he would be dead on the floor, watching his own Ghost arise from his body. Now that would be a terrible way to die. Pulling Evelyn into a tight hug he sighed, stroking her hair.

“I’m gonna be okay.” She whispered into his chest, pulling away slowly.

“You’re a Vampire, sweetheart.” Was his reply. “I don’t think you’ll ever be okay again.” He pushed the loose strands back and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Joseph!” Genevieve’s shrill voice came from downstairs. She was in a demanding mood, a mood which was not be trifled with. A mood Joseph and Evelyn knew not to mess with. Giving a sad smile to his daughter, Joseph headed back down the stairs. Letting his hand slide down the stair banister, gripping it with a gentle force his body felt heavy.

 

Swinging himself ungracefully around the end banister he walked down the hallway, forcing himself to not look at the family pictures hanging on the walls. Gripping the door frame he looked at his wife, a pleasant smile on his lips. “Yes?” He asked

“What did you do?” Her voice was low, the light glinting off her fangs.

“What? Nothing!” The first look on his face was confusion, then replaced by gentle anger. As fast as lightning, Genevieve got up for the second time, her hand closing around her husband’s throat. “What did you say to my daughter!”

“Genevieve! Genevieve! Nothing! Nothing! I swear! Genevieve!” He repeated the same words over and over again, scared to death, thrashing. He was scared, scared of his own wife. But his words were drowned out.

“What did you say to my daughter!” Genevieve was saying it a couple of times, each time more violent and more demanding. She wanted to get a response. But Joseph wouldn’t give an answer, he would never give his daughter up. Genevieve wasn't even hisHe turned her own daughter.

Evelyn was old enough now to know how her father was feeling. Genevieve could sense that she was on the stairs, gripping the banister poles tightly, her knuckles turning paler than her already pale skin, the veins clearly popping out on her skin. She couldn’t bear to watch any longer, yet her eyes were glued to the sick drama unfolding before her. Joseph managed to shove his wife off, shoving her into the back of a chair. “What do you mean? What came over you?” he asked, rubbing the handprint on his neck. He caught sight of his daughter quickly dashing up the stairs quickly, a blur to his eyes. Looking back at his wife he awaited and answer. “So?”

“She doesn’t deserve this life. She never did.”

“But she’s got it now.” His voice was shallow, emotionless.

“Only because of you!” Genevieve was close to tears. She was going to have a breakdown, she was showing emotion - she rarely did that. She was a mess now, wanting to kill her daughter then her husband wasn't doing her good. It was raw anger, dangerous anger.

Pulling his wife into a gentle embrace, his fingers pushed her platinum blonde hair back, smiling sadly as his wife didn’t fight him – which was so rare – and pulled her closer, his hand resting on the small of her back. Genevieve melted into the kiss, something she didn’t do often, and passionately, her built-up sexual tension pouring out of her. Pushing his hair back they both savoured the moment, they were rare and they never lasted long. Genevieve pulled away first, breathing gently, running the back of her hand down his face, licking her lips. “We should do that more often.” Joseph whispered in a tender tone.

“No.” was her blunt reply, getting a gentle laugh out of her husband. Pulling away he walked back down the hallway, his bare feet padding on the varnished floor. “We should sleep, it’s late and who knows what tomorrow brings?”

“Why are you so philosophical before bed? My brain can’t handle it.” Genevieve sighed, pushing her hair back behind her ear, walking towards Joseph. Brushing past him she went up the stairs, immediately turning left to get to the master bedroom. The four poster Gothic bed with wine red tapestries. Evelyn’s room was the floor above and on the other side of the house. If any arguing happened, Evelyn would hear it. Vampires had amazingly enhanced senses and emotions intensified. Anger was rage, a crush was passion and happiness was elation.

 

Gripping the zip of the dress tightly, Genevieve slowly pulled it down, slipping out of it and leaving it on the floor, kicking it out of the way. It really did flatter her, and no one in the Parker family was allowed to look better than her. Evelyn’s sharp hearing heard it all. She could hear almost every sound in the house, every whispered argument of passion through the walls ground out through her parent’s teeth. Curling up and turning over so she could face the wall she looked at all of her posters from television shows. Shadowhunters, Lucifer, Vampire Diaries (a terrible representation of Vampires) and many others coated her walls in an organised mess. Her mother had objected, complaining that it would ruin the walls and turn them from a pure white to a dull cream. But Evelyn got her own way at last and the walls were coated in the posters which she loved and the ‘fandoms’ which had devoured her soul. But then again, she never had a soul to begin with. That had been given to the little red man with devil horns and a pitchfork. Or that’s what Evelyn liked to say to people. Gripping her small cushion tightly to her chest she rested her chin against it, closing her eyes, sighing sadly. It wasn’t every day you heard your parents go from arguing to gentle kissing in under five minutes. For her parents to have a tender moment, Evelyn knew her father must’ve worked his ‘magic’ on Genevieve. Breathing out again, she closed her eyes, relaxing. Tomorrow brought another day at the school, putting up with others who were either snobs, sluts or both. Sighing she fell into the pit of sleep alone with her thoughts.

 

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